


Regarding the Likelihood of Dodging Certain Death

by WingedFlight



Category: Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer, The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Gen, The Commission, Time Travel, apocalypse prevention, two snarky geniuses with time travel issues-what could go wrong?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 18:13:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18057521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingedFlight/pseuds/WingedFlight
Summary: The Commission-mandated assassination of Artemis Fowl is set to occur within the next two days. Luckily, Number Five has some time on his hands.





	1. Underage Drinking in the Kitchen

**Author's Note:**

> In which I got caught up in how similar Artemis and Number Five are and couldn't stop until I'd written several thousand words of their time travelling adventures.

+

Join Artemis Fowl and Number Five in...

**UNDERAGE DRINKING IN THE KITCHEN**

PART ONE OF FIVE 

+

Excerpt from Research Notes obtained from the Fowl servers, dated five months prior to the Kidnapping of Captain Short:

_ There are an astonishing amount of stories, myths, fairy tales, etc. involving the irregular passage of time. Heroes travel to the land of the fae for a single night and return home to find centuries have passed. Travelers cross great distances in an unrealistic fraction of the time it should take. Santa Claus visits every home in a single night. Even modern-day urban legends speak of a commission devoted to correcting and maintaining the timeline.  _

_ Could time control and manipulation be among the magical abilities of the People? Must do further research on the subject.  _

+

**Seven Years Later…**

No one heard the Boy enter. 

No doors were opened, no systems alerted. No shoes squeaked on the tile floor leading from the back entrance to the industrial-sized kitchen. No shadows slid across the internal monitors—not for the cameras on the regular light spectrum, nor those on night vision, nor even those set to more specialized filters. 

The only sign was a blink-and-you-miss it ripple of blue-hued air. 

The security system’s base-level artificial intelligence was incapable of blinking and therefore did not miss it. An alert was logged. Butler was halfway through his rounds when his phone buzzed. He tapped open the app, read the alert, and pulled up a view from the camera in question. 

At first glance, he saw nothing immediately alarming: his charge had simply broken from the usual evening routine to experiment in the kitchen. Except the idea of his charge left unsupervised in the kitchen  _ was _ alarming. Butler zoomed in for a closer look. Then he changed course, backtracking down the hall to open the door to his charge’s study. 

Artemis Fowl looked up from the computer, a question articulated within a single raised eyebrow. 

“There’s an intruder in the kitchen,” said Butler. “And not one of the regulars.” 

+

“If you’re thinking of making a move,” said Artemis, “Think again. Butler here is carrying what many might find to be an uncomfortably excessive amount of weaponry upon his person, and could kill you in a hundred different ways without the use of any of them.” 

“Interesting,” said the Boy, not appearing concerned in the slightest. He leaned back on the stool and took a sip of his drink, smiling as if enjoying a private joke. For an absurd instant, as the Boy pinched the fluorescent orange cocktail straw between his fingers, Artemis almost felt like  _ he _ was the one being threatened. 

This was all very unsatisfying, especially considering a) they were in the Fowl Manor, b) neither Artemis nor Butler had yet found the point of entry, and c) the Boy had made a mess all over the counter preparing his cocktail before they had even reached him. Artemis knew for a fact there had been no rum in the house before the Boy had shown up—nor bright orange straws, for that matter. 

Furthermore, the intruder had yet to offer the slightest explanation as to why he had decided to engage in underage drinking in the Fowl Manor kitchen. Artemis watched him take another sip before commenting, “I’m sure you plan on cleaning up after yourself.” 

“Why would I do that?” asked the Boy. “You literally just introduced your butler. Or is his only job to hold weapons and look threatening?” 

Butler obligingly heightened the intensity of his glare. 

“I see,” responded the Boy. “In that case, well done, sir.” 

He took another long, noisy sip and then set the glass aside. “Artemis Fowl,” he said, locking eyes. “I came here to let you know that you’re probably going to die.” As an afterthought, he added, “Condolences.” 

“Is this a threat?” asked Artemis, “Or a warning?” 

The Boy hopped down off the stool to give Artemis a very critical once-over. “I haven’t decided yet. On a scale of one to five, how pleased would you be if the apocalypse were to occur?” 

Butler growled. The Boy waved a hand dismissively in his direction. 

Artemis had already conducted his own critical examination of the Boy, which was why he also lifted a hand to Butler—although his gesture was more along the lines of  _ wait and see where this goes before taking off his head. _ “Very well,” he said aloud, “I’ll play. If the first number on the scale were a one, you could say I would be in the negatives.” 

“More than disappointed?” 

“Actively working against it.” 

“Interesting,” said the Boy again. “Would you be effective?” 

“At preventing the apocalypse? Based on prior experience, I imagine so.” 

The Boy was less impressed by this response than Artemis thought appropriate. He simply sighed, “That explains things,” and wandered over to the pantry. “Do you have any chips? Or crisps, I suppose, here in England.” 

“Ireland.” 

The Boy’s head popped back out of the pantry so he could squint at Artemis. “Yes,” he said after a moment. “It is, isn’t it?” Packages began to rattle as he rooted through the shelves. 

Artemis took the opportunity to step backward to Butler’s side. In a low voice, he asked, “Is this what it’s like talking with me?” 

“That depends,” said Butler, “Is he annoying you?” 

“Considerably, yes.” Artemis frowned. “Oh, I see. Very funny.” 

The Boy emerged from the pantry, arms laden with various baking ingredients. “The assassination will occur at some point in the next two days. After that, the apocalypse either happens or it doesn’t, and it really won’t matter anymore whether you’re still alive.” 

“It’ll matter to me,” said Butler. 

“Sure, buddy,” said the Boy. “Fetch me a mug?” 

Butler didn’t move. The Boy sighed, turned, and vanished—

—only to reappear on the counter to reach into the dishes cupboard and retrieve one of the largest ceramic mugs. Then he blinked out of existence again, and stepped out of the air in his original spot behind the kitchen island. 

“Fascinating,” said Artemis. 

The Boy lifted his head and provided a smarmy smile. 

“Great,” said Butler. “He’s got magic.” 

“Magic,” snorted the Boy, pouring flour directly from its bag into the mug. “That’s a good one.” 

Butler continued, “He doesn’t look like one of the People. Another Belinda Zito situation?” 

Artemis watched the Boy transfer a handful of cocoa powder to the mug and then dust off his palms on his shorts. “An excellent guess, but I believe not. Note the patch on his blazer, and the ink on his wrist. That emblem was quite recognizable in its day.” 

The Boy dribbled some milk into the mug, followed by a shot of rum. “Clever kid.” 

“You’re a member of the Umbrella Academy,” continued Artemis, “gifted with teleportation and, unless I miss my guess, time travel abilities. That must make you—” 

“Number Five,” finished the Boy. “Aren’t you a regular Sherlock Holmes.” 

“Time travel,” grumbled Butler. “Wonderful.” 

The Boy shot him a look. “Yes, wonderful. Or would you prefer I hadn’t come warn you about the hit order?” 

“Warn,” said Artemis. “Not threaten?” 

The Boy straightened his blazer. “I’ve decided so, yes. My guess is they want to take you out for trying to stop the upcoming apocalypse—which means I can assume you would be nearly successful even without my help.” 

“Not to sound overly confident in my own abilities,” said Artemis, “But yes, I would imagine so. I would normally bet on my complete success but, given your abilities and your presence here, I imagine you’ve already been to the future where I did not succeed?” 

“Got it in one.” The Boy cracked an egg into his concoction to punctuate the statement. “Hopefully we can change that.” He lifted the mug and turned in a slow, searching circle. “Hold on. Do you not have a microwave? What kind of kitchen doesn’t have a microwave?” 

+

_ Holly, do you have plans this weekend? An interesting situation has arisen. —AF _

_ D’arvit Artemis what did you do this time _

+


	2. It's Quiet When Everyone's Dead

+

**IT’S QUIET WHEN EVERYONE’S DEAD**

PART TWO OF FIVE

+

Deleted excerpt from an early draft of _The Chronological Instabilities of the Magical Body,_ dissertation by demon warlock No.1:

_There is evidence even among the human population that magical-induced time travel takes a heavy toll upon the body of the traveler! As detailed in my case studies, traveler ages change wildly and unpredictably during ventures to the past. The reclusive but super smart human Professor Hargreeves argued that the problem stems from the mind. If that were the case, wouldn’t it mean smarter travelers have greater chances of success? I respectfully argue that willpower, rather than intellect, is the key to maintaining physical stability in the time stream._

_On the other claw, having intellect necessary to properly perform the time calculations certainly helps, too. Otherwise, who knows when you’ll end up or how old you’ll be when you get there._

+

Their first order of business, Artemis decided, would be to travel to the future to investigate the immediate aftermath of the apocalypse. It wouldn’t be enough for Number Five to go on his own; he lacked the knowledge of Artemis’s detailed histories needed to properly interpret any clues. When the Boy suggested Artemis do his best to simply _fill him in_ on said history, Artemis declined. His reasoning (or at least, the only reasoning he cared to share) was that it would be more efficient and timely to simply both go together at once.

“Bad idea,” said Number Five. “I’m still working on counteracting the time dilation effect—I miscarried a one somewhere and still haven’t found it.”

“Time dilation effect.”

“We’d get to the future just fine, but I have no idea how young you would be when we got back. And your butler doesn’t look like the type to change diapers.”

“Artemis has traveled through time just fine before,” Butler pointed out, ignoring the diaper jibe.

Artemis was already shaking his head. “And it affected my age while I was in the past. I’d gotten older. Holly was in her teens. We only returned to our correct ages when we came back to our present—traveling forward through time.”

“Humans are used to travelling forward,” Number Five theorized. “But whenever we go back…” He waved his fingers. “Time dilation effect.”

But this was not to be the end of the discussion. “You have the equation?” Artemis asked, to which Number Five nodded. “Show me.”

+

And so they travelled to the future.

+

Number Five had warned Artemis that time travel could be complicated, that it wasn’t an exact science, that things could get tricky fast. “You’re telling me,” Artemis had replied unfazed, which seemed a fairly good indicator that he was not taking the warning to heart.

Even so, it felt unnecessarily cruel of fate for them to pop out on the front drive of Fowl Manor just in time to see a lanky figure slip inside the front door.

Number Five winced, and hoped in vain that Artemis would not notice.

“I thought you said no one survives.”

“I did,” sighed Number Five. “This timing is unfortunate.” He squinted at the sky in thought. “We could use this to our advantage, I suppose. How comfortable are you with the concept of ghosts?”

“That was your brother, then. Number Four, if I recall correctly? You brought him here?” Artemis turned a slow circle, taking in a view that looked exactly the same as that of the time they’d left. Whatever had occurred to kill off the world’s population, it had left the architecture completely unaffected.

“Easier to talk to the witnesses.”

There was an amusing hesitation before Artemis asked his next question. “Did you talk to me?”

“Wouldn’t that have been a clever idea.” Number Five tried not to roll his eyes. “You don’t show. Apparently, you ghost has better things to do in the afterlife than hang around this spooky place.”

In all honesty, the Fowl Manor was actually _less_ spooky after the apocalypse. Before the world’s end, in the time they had just left, the manor had been infused with an eerily heavy atmosphere—a feeling of being constantly watched and judged and found wanting. Now, it was just a sad and empty building filled with dust.

If Artemis noticed, he said nothing of it. Instead, he quietly pointed out the lack of cobwebs in the front hall before following the tracks left by Klaus up the grand staircase.

+

“Back already?” whined Klaus as Number Five entered the study. He was spinning around in the desk chair, one arm flung dramatically over his eyes. When Number Five did not immediately answer, Klaus lifted the arm slightly to peer at the doorway.

“Oh hey,” he said, only slightly enthused. “It worked. I did it! There he is! Summoned your ghost.”

“You did not summon any ghost,” sniped Number Five. “This is the living version.”

Okay, so now that Five pointed it out, Klaus recognized that there was something more substantial to the Artemis Fowl that had joined them. All the same… “ _You_ managed to survive the apocalypse?”

“No,” said Five impatiently. “I brought him from the past. We’re working together to figure out what happened and stop it.”

“Ooooh fun adventures.” Klaus kicked the chair into another spin. “Carry on, then.”

Unfortunately, Number Five wasn’t done. “There’s a reason the two of us are not just hiding until you and my other self leave, Klaus.”

“What?” Klaus stopped the chair again. “No. Oh no. I already _tried_ calling up his ghost. He isn’t _here._ ” He turned his attention to his brother’s companion, holding his hands out plaintively. “I’m sorry, man, your ghost isn’t here.”

“So I’ve gathered,” said Artemis Fowl in a manner that reminded Klaus alarmingly of Five. He wondered if his brother had been rubbing off on this Mr. Irish guy, or if Artemis had always been so uptight. If so, no wonder his ghost wasn’t cooperating.

Klaus turned back to Five. “Look. The other you will be back soon. That’s too trippy even for me. Go away.”

“Aid us first,” said Artemis. It wasn’t a request. Klaus groaned loudly, but Mr. Irish proceeded to pull his phone from his pocket and tap at it several times before holding it out.

“Oh, how fun!” Klaus briefly pushed aside his reluctance to help in favour of playing with the phone. “It's your photo albu—oh. You want me to try talking to the people in these pictures.”

“If possible,” said Artemis. He still had his hand outstretched as if he expected Klaus to drop the phone. Klaus was tempted to do just that and see if Mr. Irish would actually manage to catch it.

Except Five was looking bouncy and more irritated than ever. “And can you hurry up?”

“Okay, okay, fine. I’ll give it a go.” Klaus sighed heavily. “But only because you’re my favourite brother.”

“Uh huh,” said Artemis and Five in unified disbelief.

+

_...You haven’t lived until you’ve tasted the dirt of a vineyard. All those flavours seep down and infuse the soil over time with a delectable richness…_

_Cappuccino!_

_...like riding a unicorn. Whatever they’re paying me, it isn’t enough…_

_I am not a pixie—_

_Don’t force me to vaporize you!_

_—no scratching, no spitting, and no tattling to mummy._

_Hey big brother! Barney says go to sleeeeee…_

_...I thought it was all supposed to be over when the fat lady sings._

_The gang’s all here. And guess what? I don’t like gangs, don’t like gangs don’t gangs don’t…_

_Well, she’s singing, but it doesn’t appear to be over._

_Is that the kidnapping lowlife human?_

_When are you going to learn, Mud Boy? You don’t know what you’re dealing with. Stay back, human. You don’t know._

_Stay back—_

_Stay—_

+

Klaus was leaning forward, speaking rapidly to repeat as many of the voices as he could. Artemis had closed his eyes as he listened, trying to ignore the way his heart slammed with every familiar phrase and the associated memories. Now was not the time for emotions. He had to concentrate, locate the right source, so he could stop any of this from happening in the first place.

“Stay back, human,” repeated Klaus.

Artemis’s eyes flashed open. “Holly,” he mouthed, and then cleared his throat. “Her. Holly. She’s the one we need to speak with.”

+


	3. Set Assassins to Kill a Thief

+

**SET ASSASSINS TO KILL A THIEF**

PART THREE OF FIVE 

+

Excerpt from the Temps Commission Correction Operative’s Handbook v. 2.3: 

_ It is all well and good to set a thief to catch a thief, if it is thieves one is after. As Correction Operatives, it is your purpose to eliminate influential individuals before they can alter the timeline. Thieves may, occasionally, be included; however, you will more often encounter world leaders, political writers, entertainers, chefs, military officers, psychologists, engineers, and dentists—to name a few. It will do little good in this case to set a thief. Highly trained assassins, on the other hand, will be effective no matter the target’s occupation.  _

+

By the time Captain Holly Short obtained a surface visa, braved the crowds of an overly populated shuttle port, rode the chutes, and flew the remaining distance overground to Fowl Manor, nearly a full day had passed since her first message from Artemis. He had said little to explain the request for her presence, which wasn't unusual, but had tagged the message red, which was. That colour was enough to prompt a stop by the Operations Booth on Holly's way out of the office to ensure Foaly would be on-call for the next few days. Just in case. 

All the same, she hadn't quite expected to need the centaur's help before she'd even spoken to her least (or most, depending on the day) favourite human. 

"Mud Boy got you scrambling already?" Foaly asked as soon as he answered the line. He didn't sound surprised nor particularly worried. 

"I wish," Holly replied. She was currently hovering roughly four stories over the Fowl estate, watching a handful of masked figures half-hidden among decorative shrubbery a short distance from the manor. "Are you receiving my video?" 

"Am I supposed to recognize anyone there?" Then came the whiny of disbelief she'd been waiting for. "Is that a  _ sniper rifle?" _

Holly was already reaching for the neutrino on her belt. "Run a search on the masks and see if you can find anything on these fools." 

"Already on it. Have fun storming the—" She cut off the transmission, already dialing another call. 

Artemis picked up before the first ring had ended. "Holly. Excellent timing. I assume—" 

"Duck!" 

A number of things occurred in rapid succession. 

The sniper fired a single shot towards the window of Artemis’s private study. At nearly the same instant, Holly—now in the middle of a sharp dive—squeezed the trigger of her neutrino. A bolt of energy struck the sniper square in the chest. The sniper collapsed. 

In the midst of all this had been a clatter on the line as Artemis (and his phone) hit the ground. Holly did not know whether she’d heard this before or after the first shot had been fired. She did not have time to check; a small figure in black had appeared in the midst of the remaining masked men and begun… well, the best way of describing the newcomer’s actions was  _ wreaking mass havoc. _ Prior to this, Holly had only seen one person successfully take on so many opponents alone, though there was no mistaking this individual for Butler. This boy was about one sixth the size, for one thing, and also seemed to be blinking in and out of visibility. 

Holly filed this observation away for later, raised her neutrino again, and fired three more shots. The remaining three masked men dropped instantly. 

She pulled up out the dive to alight on the lawn. She’d dropped her shield in order to aim and was therefore fully visible, but the strange boy didn’t even glance her way. He was standing in the centre of the fallen men, breathing heavily but otherwise unharmed. 

One of the men groaned. No longer in a hurry, the Boy stepped over the sniper’s still body to approach him. He was tossing and catching a knife by the handle. 

It took Holly an embarrassing several seconds to catch his intentions. “Stop!” she barked, raising her neutrino again. 

The Boy reached the man’s side. He caught the knife one last time, adjusting the grip in his hand. She fired a bolt at the ground inches from the Boy's feet. “I won’t warn you again.” 

Poised to stab, the Boy turned his head slowly toward her. If he was shocked by the sight of her, he did not show it. "Do you not  _ understand _ what's going on here?" 

"He's down. He's not a threat anymore." 

"Of course he's still a threat: he's alive. Don't be naive." 

She saw the subtle shift as he began to thrust the knife downward toward the man's heart. With a wordless shout, Holly pulled the trigger again. The neutrino bolt struck the Boy in the chest, throwing him backward with the impact. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

Holly took a deep breath. The masked man groaned again. "Shut up," she muttered, and fired once more.

And then, at last, came Artemis’s voice in her ear. “I assume you’ve taken care of the problem? Or do I need to send Butler to assist?” 

“Fowl,” she spat, “You and I are about to have some serious words.” 

\+ 

Confidential LEP Communication   
Sender: Foaly   
Sender Location: LEP HQ Operations Booth, Haven City   
Recipient: Holly Short   
Recipient Location: Fowl Manor, Ireland

Attachments:  Temps Aeternalis_report ;  Umbrella Academy_dossiers

Message:  _ Holly, found our masked friends, as well as scary mini-Artemis/Butler fusion boy. Careful, this looks messy. _

+

There was a small crack in the centre of the study’s window, but no hole. Artemis was inspecting it from the other side of the glass pane when Holly alighted on the sill. He gave her a nod, acting standoffish and professional as always. The act didn’t fool her; Holly had caught the way his eyes lit up as she arrived. 

He slid the window up and moved back, allowing her to hop down into the room. “Bulletproof glass,” he said with a nod to the pane and then, in a softer voice, “Hello, Holly.” 

A soft voice from Artemis meant he was feeling emotional, and emotions from Artemis meant he was actually worried about whatever danger they were in. Holly lay a hand on her holstered neutrino. “What have you gotten yourself into, Fowl?” 

“Surprisingly, this one isn’t my fault.” He glanced towards the yard. “Did I see correctly that you shot Number Five?” 

“Who?” she asked innocently. Then her face scrunched. “Are you telling me you’ve run into someone  _ else _ who goes by a number instead of a name? Please tell me he isn’t also a warlock in disguise. I saw the way he was flickering in and out of sight.” 

“Teleportation, not invisibility,” Artemis corrected. “Take a seat. I have a lot to explain and time is running out.” 

+


	4. Hand-Eye Coordination and a Bloodthirsty Attitude

+

**HAND-EYE COORDINATION AND A BLOODTHIRSTY ATTITUDE**

PART FOUR OF FIVE 

+

Excerpt from Surveillance Recording 4001 of Corrections Operative Number Five:

_ I should hate time travel, I am well aware. My chronological instabilities have more or less contributed to the ruination of my life on a number of occasions. You linear folk, tethered to your own straight timelines, moving in a single direction like sheep—you have it sooo easy. And you don’t even know to be thankful.  _

_...I’m sorry, Delores. I know  _ _ you _ _ understand. It’s everyone else in this wacked-up world that drive me nuts with their petty, inconsequential molehill problems. Acting like the world will end if they don’t buy the newest sports car or break up with Teddy or make the headline of the next news cycle or—or— _

_ No, I have not been drinking. Not that much. I’m just tired of being the only one to understand what really constitutes the end of the world.  _

_...Don’t say that. Why do you always say that?  _

_...No, you stop. _

+

Number Five woke with a splitting headache and the memory of a tiny angry technological fairy, which made him really hope he had been drinking the night before. He had the sneaking suspicion this was not the case, especially when he rolled over to find himself on the ornate couch of a manor house that was not his own.  _ Fowl Manor, _ he remembered.  _ Artemis Fowl. Assassins. Apocalypse. Angry fairy? _

Angry fairy indeed, it seemed. The being in question was currently perched on the edge of Artemis Fowl’s desk. She had removed her helmet as well as her wings, and was cleaning the hefty futuristic weapon with which she’d shot Five. Artemis was unconcerned by her presence, leaning back with his fingers templed as he explained Klaus’s ability to speak with the dead. 

“I know where this is going,” said the fairy, blanching. “You spoke with your own ghost.” 

“Unfortunately not. If I had to theorize, my soul is too weak to linger after another death.” Number Five made a note to unpack that one later, as Artemis continued, “Actually, I spoke to you.” 

_ Ah, _ thought Number Five.  _ So this is Holly. _ Not exactly what he’d been expecting, but who was he to judge? 

“So the People didn’t survive either?” Holly asked. “Or did you just drag me to my doom as usual?” 

Artemis didn't answer, which was answer enough. The fairy leaned back, her face grim. "What did... I tell you? What happens?" 

"You—she confirmed my suspicions as to the cause of the event. Not that it would have been difficult to figure out, even for someone with lesser intellect than I. The world looked exactly the same, Holly, save for one noticeable difference: no living creature had survived." 

She muttered an oath under her breath. "A bio bomb?"

"A series of bio bombs set off in a chain reaction, actually." 

"D'arvit," she said again. "And we couldn't stop them?" 

"It seems our luck had finally run out." Artemis tapped his chin. "In that timeline, anyway. Forewarned as we are, I must believe we will be successful on our next attempt."

"Because of him?" she nodded towards Number Five, and then her eyes narrowed. "He's awake, by the way." 

"I am well aware," said Artemis. 

Slightly disgruntled, Five said, "I'd still be asleep if you weren't so loud." He pulled himself into a sitting position, wincing as the throbbing of his headache renewed. "What did you shoot me with?" 

Holly waggled her gun. "Lowest stun setting." 

"And the assassins?" 

"Butler's taken care of them," said Artemis. 

"Does that mean he killed them?" Five fixed his eyes on Holly. "Because we won't be safe unless they're dead." 

The fairy pursed her lips. Artemis simply said, "They will not be a problem." 

"Won't they?" 

"They won't," echoed Holly. "We've taken care of it." 

Five had the impression that the  _ we _ was not referring to herself and Artemis, but rather another group to whom Holly was attached. Oddly, this made him feel better about their chances, if there really was a shadowy organization on their side. Even so, he still didn't like the idea of the assassins being left alive—but there were more important things to do than argue about opponent disposal methods. 

He straightened the cuffs of his blazer. "That list of coordinates you pulled from your computer in the future. Are those the locations of these bio bombs, as you call them?" 

"Frond, he doesn't just look like you," said Holly to Artemis in dismay, "he sounds like you, too." She squinted. "He's like you, but with hand-eye coordination and a bloodthirsty attitude." 

"Thank you," said Number Five. "The coordinates?" 

"Most likely, yes," said Artemis. "Which brings us to our next course of action." 

+

Fourteen LEPretrieval agents were deployed to coordinates scattered about the globe. Number Five's siblings split up to cover three more locations within the United States. 

"That leaves one more bomb for the four of us," Holly had said, peering at the map Artemis had projected onto his study's wall. "Tokyo? Really? How are we supposed to—?" She caught Number Five's smile. "Oh." 

Several minutes later, the Boy had pulled her and Artemis through a ripple in the fabric of reality to a rooftop in Tokyo, Japan. Holly shivered at the high-altitude chill and zipped her flight suit up to her chin. 

"A slightly different sensation than time travel," Artemis was musing. He flexed his fingers, peering out at the city below. "Now, if the coordinates are exact—and I left them, which means they will be—the first bio bomb to go off in the chain reaction should be located..." 

"Here," said Number Five in a sour voice. 

Holly had her neutrino drawn by the time she'd spun about, for all the good it could do. She couldn't just shoot the bio bomb into submission, for one thing. And she couldn't shoot the gnome half-hidden behind Number Five, either, as much as she would have liked to do so. 

This gnome was tall for his species, which meant he was able to wrap his hands around Number Five's throat to hold him in place. His hands were glowing blue with magic. So were the demon runes traced on his forehead. 

"Artemis, Holly, how nice of you to join us," said the demon-possessed Ark Sool. "Come for a chat before the world dies?" 

+


	5. It's a Shame We Ran Out of Time

+

**IT’S A SHAME WE RAN OUT OF TIME**

BEING PART FIVE OF FIVE 

+

Excerpt from an Email Chain between Warlock Interns in LEPtraining: 

_ Yo Hartly,  _

_ Notice anything different with the guinea pig recently? Tossed a cocktail sword into the cage and he didn’t even look at it. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that wasn’t N’zall in there. Think he’s sick?  _

+

Number Five tried to jump. Of course he tried. Teleportation was more than a mere ability to him, it was an instinct as natural as sneezing. As a defensive maneuver, the power had proven quite useful for getting out of sticky situations before: he could simply relocate and leave his opponent literally empty-handed or, if Five was feeling particularly vindictive, he could take his opponent with him. It was always fun to see the shock on their faces when he popped over to a volcano or a high cliff.

Except this time, he couldn’t jump at all—not with the creepy glowing bomber, nor on his own. It felt as though he’d overextended himself, even though a single jump halfway across the world shouldn’t have depleted his powers so fast. And he had the unwelcome suspicion that the bomber was the one who’d sucked him dry. 

Holly still had her weapon raised, even though the bomber was smaller than Five and therefore making full use of his body shield. Artemis hadn’t moved a muscle. 

Five swallowed, grimacing as the bomber’s grip tightened briefly around his throat, and said, “Old friends, huh? Care to introduce me?” 

“You could say that,” chucked the bomber. “We have a colourful history, isn’t that right?” 

“To be honest,” said Artemis, “I’d just about forgotten about the both of you. Number Five, meet Ark Sool: probably the most annoying—” 

“And ineffective,” piped Holly.

“—ex-commander of the Lower Elements Police. And unless I miss my guess, Mr. Sool is currently sharing his brain with…” He turned to Holly. “What was that demon’s name?” 

“Little Horn, wasn’t it?” 

The bomber growled. 

“Ah, yes. N’zall. Or Leon Abbott, but only because he’s sensitive.” 

The grip around Five’s throat tightened again as the bomber—Ark Sool or N’zall or Leon Abbott—snarled, “I am  _ not _ sensitive.” 

Artemis raised an eyebrow skeptically.

+

As the lifelong bodyguard to Artemis Fowl, Butler was never impressed when forced to leave his charge’s side in the middle of a crisis. Over the years, he’d come to trust in Holly Short’s ability to keep Artemis safe, but that didn’t make him any less prone to worrying. 

“I know it’s dangerous,” Artemis had told him as Number Five prepared for the jump to Japan. “But the more people Five brings with him, the more power he expends. And we can’t afford for him to run empty when we get there. Besides, there’s a task I need you to do here for me.” 

“And what is that?” 

“I’ll be keeping a channel open so you can hear and record everything we encounter in Tokyo. I need you to save it on the servers. Worst case scenario, if we fail and the bio bombs go off, then the version of me who travels into the future will find more than mere coordinates; I’ll have evidence of the mastermind behind the apocalypse, as well.” 

Butler stared hard at him. “I hate time travel,” he said finally.

“Understandable,” said Artemis. “But at least it means there might be a timeline out there that doesn’t encounter the apocalypse tonight.”  

+

Artemis was not keen to gamble on another timeline’s ability to avoid the apocalypse without first doing everything within his power to save this one. Throughout his round of insults towards Sool and N’zall, Artemis was mentally cycling through a number of potential scenarios for how the situation could play out. He had to rule out several of these almost immediately, due to Number Five’s apparent inability to teleport out of danger. Others were too risky, or simply unfeasible. 

Then again, he was in the company of a time traveler. Just because Number Five couldn’t teleport at this particular moment did not mean Artemis had to rule him out entirely. And there was one trick that had worked before… 

“You can mock us all you want, Fowl,” Sool/N'zall was saying, “But we’ll have the last laugh. Our bombs have been hidden around the world. Once we activate this one, there will be no stopping them. Our revenge will be complete!” 

“You’d really kill every single being on the planet for your revenge?” Holly asked. 

_ Of course they would, _ thought Artemis.

Sool/N’zall ignored the comment. “There’s nothing you can do to stop it,” they gloated. “You’ve run out of time.” 

Artemis looked over Number Five’s shoulder. “Indeed. A shame we can’t just hop back and change tactics.” 

The demon runes on Sool’s forehead dimmed slightly with confusion. “What?” 

And that’s when the knife struck Ark Sool in the back of his neck, slicing neatly through the spinal cord and killing him instantly. The runes flickered once, and went out. Number Five broke free of the already-loosened grip, hands flexing as he spun about. 

“That’s my brother, you asshole,” said Diego.  

+

Confidential LEP Communication   
Sender: Foaly   
Sender Location: LEP HQ Operations Booth, Haven City   
Recipient: Holly Short   
Recipient Location: Undisclosed Rooftop, Tokyo, Japan

Message:  _ Holly, all bio-bombs accounted for and disabled. Take that, apocalypse! _

+

“Explain it again,” said Holly.

Artemis sighed. “It’s the trick I used outside the zoo when we went back to retrieve Jayjay. I simply decided that, once Sool and N’zall had been stopped, we’d send Number Five back in time to fetch reinforcements, who would then be in place to take care of Sool and N’zall.” 

“I hate time travel,” said Holly. 

“So do I,” said Diego, aka the reinforcements. “Explain it again?”

This time it was Number Five who sighed heavily. “Once I am able to jump back in time, I am going to go find you. Where were you before I brought you here?” 

“With Allison, taking care of that bomb thing in Florida.” 

“So that’s where I’m about to go.” 

“And that’s why you didn’t stick around after you brought me here,” said Diego, finally cluing in. “Okay.” 

“What I don’t understand,” continued Five, “is how this Sool N’zall character was able to drain my power.” 

Artemis glanced over to the prone body several feet away. “N’zall had previously shared a body with a demon warlock, which meant he’d picked up a number of advanced methods of manipulating magic. And I suspect the energy that fuels your abilities is similar, if not the same, as the People’s magic.” 

“Magic, huh?” said Diego.

“Humans with magic,” said Holly. “Wonderful.”  

+++

**Epilogue...**

He never hears the Boy enter. 

It's more of a feeling, or perhaps even a physical sensation. A tension as the air tugs for a split second against his skin. If he is fast, or happens to be looking in the right direction, he might see the moment reality pinches together with a ripple of warped light beams that turn the air a familiar blue tint. 

Perhaps it is that blue that makes the tiny spec of remaining magic flare in his gut each time. Or perhaps his body still recognizes the sensation of time travel.

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. Artemis is, putting it mildly, well-suited for turning hypothetical unknowns into well-considered theories but the arrival of Number Five is not usually the time for such intellectual pursuits. Certainly not today, as the Boy pops into existence with an exaggerated gasp and a stench of lingering smoke and a red spray of blood (likely not his own) across his face.

Artemis does have to admit, if only to himself, that Number Five knows how to make an entrance. 

"Let me guess," Artemis says, watching from behind his desk as Number Five recovers from... whatever he's just done. "The apocalypse is nigh, again." 

"Uncanny," coughs the Boy, glancing up with a gleam in his eye, "How did you know?"

"Tea?" asks Artemis. He's already sending the text to Butler. "Or perhaps something stronger?"

"You know," says Number Five, "I'm feeling like a cosmopolitan."

+

THE END.


End file.
